Katherine Sutton's Diary
by Superwholock98
Summary: This is the diary of Katherine Sutton, the narrator of The Song Remains The Same, a Supernatural fanfiction. Starting in 1996, when she is 15 years old, it gives you a rare opportunity to see her as a teen and then a young adult that you would not get in most fanfictions. Katherine Sutton's Diary is a must read for those who are fans of The Song Remains The Same,


**October 6, 1996**

Marcus' mom brought over a pie today. It doesn't sound very exciting, I know, but it's the best thing to happen today, So I decided to start here.

Okay, that sounded a little depressing. Maybe I should start over. My name is Katherine Sutton. I'm 15 years old and I have a gift for communicating with the supernatural.

Alright, that last part was a lie. I have a gift for killing the supernatural. Or rather, helping Mom kill them. I've never actually been on a hunt by myself. On the rare occasion Mom lets me go with her, well, let's just say I do more research than anything.

That'll all change in seven and a half months, however. I'll finally be done with Sophomore year and I'll be 16. Mom has told me since I can remember that once I turn 16, I can choose whether or not to be a full time hunter. My birthday is in April, but school doesn't end until early June, so I'm stuck in the God forsaken place until then.

I've been waiting for the moment I'm finally free from that institution my entire life. I still have to get my diploma, of course, but Mom says I can homeschool myself on the road. It shouldn't be too hard; I'm pretty smart.

Okay, that sounds a bit conceited. But it's true. I've always been the top of my class, straight A's in every subject. In fact, if I actually were to stay in school and graduate, I'd probably be valedictorian. No small feat, I'm telling you.

Anywho, I've been waiting to be a hunter my entire life. Hunting is the only thing I've ever wanted to do. Sure, I'd thought about becoming a doctor or something like that, but it's never held the same appeal as becoming a hunter.

Most people find hunting to be something they have to do, instead of something they want to. I guess I'm the exception to the rule, huh?

**October 9, 1996**

I forgot to share last time why I started writing this diary in the first place. Mom told me I should. Apparently it will help me "get all my thoughts together before I make my decision." Do I tell her my decision is already made? No. So for now, I humor her.

**October 14, 1996**

If I could quit school today and start hunting, I would.

School is so mundane. I see Tori and Marcus, my best friends, at lunch everyday, but that is the only good thing that usually happens. But Mom insists that I get my diploma. I just don't see how learning the quadratic formula will help me hunt ghosts and demons.

Mom is off in Illinois somewhere with John Winchester. It's been nearly ten years since I last saw him and his sons. Although, John has helped us in a few tight spots. He hooked us up with Bobby Singer, who can find out anything about anything. Bobby helped Mom and I on a case in Alabama dealing with ghouls; he probably saved our lives.

**October 26, 1996**

Mom is back with a little surprise; John Winchester. Apparently his oldest son Dean is off working his own case in Ohio and his youngest, Sam, is at Bobby's.

John is exactly how I remember him, if only with a few more gray hairs. He's come a long way as a hunter, and I admire him for that. He had only been one for about eight years when I'd met him, which was nothing in hunter's years. But now he was not only a better hunter, but he was much more calm about the whole affair. I guess that's what years of hunting does to you.

John gave me his phone number when Mom wasn't looking. Said to call him if I ever needed anything. I pray I never have to use just in case, I may as well record it below:

_785-555-8651_

**October 29, 1996**

John left early this morning. He's headed to Georgia. Mom offered to go with, but honestly, I think John prefers to hunt solo. He kindly refused her help, but promised to call if things change.

He won't call.

**October 31, 1996**

Halloween. The one night of the year where being a ghost is actually considered cool. Despite my future line of work, I'm actually fascinated by the holiday. I can pretend, if only for a moment, that everything Mom and I have ever hunted is make believe.

As if.

**November 5, 1996**

Time seems to pass by slower and slower every day. I fear that if June does not come sooner, I may go insane.

I do have to say though, that I'm only partially wishing my life away. Once I turn 16 and leave school, I'll hardly get to see Marcus and Tori anymore. Those two are like siblings to me. It's going to hurt to leave them. But killing monsters has to be done. It's what I've gotta do.

**November 16, 1996**

It's starting to cool off, thank God. It's kinda hard to take a run in ninety degree heat without getting a heat stroke.

I love to run. Always have. Mom thinks I'm nuts, even though it's probably her fault in the first place. She's had me in a martial arts class since I can remember, and that's always taught me to treat my body well. That's partially why I run.

The other part is that while running, I have a freedom I don't have anywhere else. I feel like I can go anywhere, do anything. If I'm truthful, that's the biggest reason why I run the way I do.

**November 20, 1996**

I have the flu. Mom has taken me out of school so I can recuperate. Unfortunately, that means helping Mom collect more information about what goes bump in the night.

On the bright side, however, I do not have to eat school lunch, which is a blessing in itself. Mom is an amazing cook, especially with her homemade chicken soup. I guess I'm a little more okay with staying home and doing research as long as I can have her cooking.

**November 27, 1996**

Mom woke me up this morning and insisted I go to my Dad's for his birthday. The only good thing about this is that I get to skip school.

It's not that I don't love the guy. I do. I really do. I just… don't connect with him like I do Mom. I can't tell him about the latest monsters Mom and I have slain, or talk to him about how I went target shooting last week and nailed every bullseye.

I guess I should have said first that my Dad was, of all things, a preacher. So all this paranormal crap really isn't his thing. Which is why my parents are divorced.

I know, I know, preachers and their wives never divorce. But my parents did. I guess you could say they're they exception to the rule.

Anyhow, Dad, Gyda, Emma and I went out for a steak dinner after I spent a long day sitting on Dad's couch watching TV. Dinners with Dad are usually awkward enough, but top it off with Gyda, my step-mom, and Emma, my half-sister, and let's just say you could feel the awkward in the air.

**November 30, 1996**

Tori set me up on a blind date today. I swear, she wants me to have a boyfriend more than I want one.

His name is Jacob Carter. Apparently, he's got a 4.0 GPA and he's on the fast track to law school. Like that's all that matters to me.

Ugh, what am I getting myself into for agreeing to this?

**December 3, 1996**

Jacob wasn't so bad, if you like over-achieving honor students, that is.

I don't know what Tori was thinking. Jacob and I have nothing in common, except maybe the fact that he can recite the periodic table the way I can recite all the ways to protect oneself from an angry spirit.

I'm almost ready to give up on the whole prospect of dating, and for that matter, marrying. Who needs a man anyway? I mean, it's not like I want to bring kids into this world as a hunter. Mind you, I had a pretty good childhood, but that's not really the norm for kids whose parents are hunters. Many times, the children of hunters grow up on the move, never having their own place to lay their heads to rest. I could always count on a warm bed; namely, my own.

**December 7, 1996**

I've always been fascinated by history. That's probably one of the reasons why I always found this day in history so underrated. We never discuss it in history class the way we should. 2,403 American's died and we just treat it like every other day.

_RIP to the men and women who gave their lives on this day in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii_

**December 12, 1996**

Marcus and I went to see a movie today. We invited Tori, but no go; she had a date with her new boyfriend.

Sometimes I wish Marcus and I were more than friends. Take earlier, for example. He's not my boyfriend or anything but like the gentleman he is, he bought my ticket and my concessions to the movie. How many guys do you know who would do that?

The thing is, I really do see him as like my brother. So I'll just have to find someone every bit as gentlemanly as Marcus. Maybe a bit handsomer though. He could use some help in that department.

**December 24, 1996**

It's Christmas eve, and just like his birthday, Mom woke me up and told me I was going to Dad's for the day.

It actually wasn't too bad. Dad bought me a new flannel shirt, a silver heart-shaped necklace that has my birthstone, a new walkman that played CD's, and a couple books about Native American traditions that I know he bought me so that I can use them for research while hunting. I don't think they'll be much use, but it's the thought that counts, right?

Tomorrow morning, Mom will wake me up at an ungodly hour to open presents. I probably should get to bed. The question is, what did she get me?

**December 25, 1996**

This is one of the best Christmases ever!

Just as I suspected last night, she woke me up at the ungodly hour of seven AM. Alright, it's not that early. But I am on vacation. I want to sleep in.

Anyway, Mom and I made homemade cinnamon rolls, a tradition we've upheld since I can remember. When they were done, we ate like queens, and then it was time to open presents.

I gave Mom a new hunting knife (you can never have enough of those), a gift certificate to the local diner, and a silver watch. It sounds like a lot but I pick up things here and there when we're on the road. I scored that hunting knife from a travelling weapons show, and the watch from a flea market.

Mom got me my own copy of Dirty Dancing (she was tired or her copy ending up in my room), a couple of books I could use while hunting, my own 9mm handgun, several CD's and a leather jacket.

Everything I wanted was under the tree, with the addition of the leather jacket, which I did want but was going to wait until my birthday to ask for.

Apparently, though, Mom figured I needed one now, which is fine by me. It just leaves me with a dilemma on what I am going to ask for my birthday.

**December 26, 1996**

Mom decided we're going to spend the remainder of my Christmas vacation in northern Louisiana just finally arrived at the hotel. Mom is out talking to people as we speak Apparently, I'm too 'young' to interrogate people properly. I disagree; I might look a little young, but that's not the point. I'm just as good at questioning people as any hunter.

Because she's out, I'm left here to watch Loony Toons and eat potato could be worse, I guess, but I'm just bored out of my mind.


End file.
